Somewhere, something went horribly wrong
by the Random Oliphaunt
Summary: Manwë, possibly under the influence of Gandalf's pipeweed, decides to send a certain fanfiction writer some plushie Valar - but something went Now Mandos TALKS LIKE THIS, Varda is obsessed with fairy lights, Aulë's into cooking, Nienna has her own personal thunderstorm and Morgoth seems to be missing his Oh, .. Part of the Plush Toy T for


**I own nothing pertaining to the works of Tolkien, nor do I own F.A.U.L.T.T.Y, which belongs to CrackinAndProudOfIt. Thanks to CrackinAndProudOfIt for beat-ing this.**

_'F.A.U.L.T.T.Y?' Ulmo peered at the leaflet suspiciously.  
Manwë nodded enthusiastically, which was worrying. Usually he was only ever enthusiastic about eagles, or hot-air balloon rides. 'It's a program devised by the Professor himself. A small group of us are to be sent to this world, "Earth", and live with a host fanfiction writer, to observe them in their natural habitat,to find out what makes them tick, as it were. Any volunteers?'  
'What's in it for us?' Nessa asked, looking justifiably worried.  
Manwë's grin grew wider. 'Anyone who survives the trip with their sanity intact gets a bag of Hershey's Kisses!'  
The rest of the Valar stared at him and tried to subtly back away. 'Sanity intact?' Yavanna echoed. Manwë nodded. ''To whom exactly are we being sent?'  
_ _Manwë told them._

* * *

_The Valar stared at him in disbelief. Oromë whimpered and 'accidentally' fell down the steps of Taniquetil. His voice could distantly be heard calling, 'I think I've sprained my ankle.'  
'Don't be such a baby,' Vána yelled down at him.  
'Why does it have to be a fanfiction writer?' Tulkas asked.  
'Because only they would have sufficient knowledge of this world to recognize us, while at the same time having the right mindset to accept that the people showing up at their house are in fact the real Valar, and not just costumed lunatics.'  
'You know, I think Oromë may need some help with his ankle...' Vána said, hurriedly walking over to the staircase.  
'I'll help you!' Estë added, running after her.  
'No volunteers? Ah,well,' Manwë said. He produced a black top hat, seemingly from nowhere. 'To make things fair, I've put all your names into this hat.' He rummaged around inside the headpiece of doom and pulled out a slip of paper. 'And our first winner is...Nienna!'  
As Nienna futilely tried to beat Manwë to death with the top hat, Mandos stepped forward. 'I volunteer to go to this... Earth.'  
'Are you ill?' Vairë asked worriedly, feeling Mandos' forehead. Mandos stepped back, glaring.  
'I feel fine, Vairë. This project sounds doomed. I enjoy doom.' The rest of the Valar stared at Mandos as if he'd gone crazy. 'What?' he asked. 'Why do you think I call myself the _Doomsman_ of the Valar?'  
'Moving on...' Manwë wrested the hat back from Nienna and pulled out another piece of paper. 'Aulë!' Aulë nodded placidly, sensing that there could be no resisting the combination of Manwë's manic grin and the top hat's sadistic decisions.  
'And finally...Varda!'  
'Very well.' Varda smiled winningly at Manwë. 'Can I take Melkor with me?'  
'Of course, sweetie.' Manwë shoved Melkor forward. The original Dark Lord scowled and muttered darkly under his breath. 'Leave the Void, Manwë said. It'll be fun, he said...'  
'Er...Manwë...' Aulë raised a hand cautiously. 'How exactly are we going to get to Earth?'  
'FedEx.' Manwë produced a large FedEx box. The other Valar stared at it apprehensively.  
'We can't possibly fit in that,' Melkor objected. Manwë nodded, still beaming.  
'Don't worry! For the duration of the journey, your fëar will be transferred into plush toys. Isn't that wonderful?'  
Nienna, Mandos, Aulë, Varda and Melkor exchanged panicked glances, but before any of them could do anything, Manwë waved his hands and muttered something, transforming them into plushies.  
'I don't like this hröa,' Nienna complained in a tiny voice as Manwë tossed the dolls into the cardboard box.  
'Don't we get bubble wrap or something?' Varda asked, her sewn-on eyes looking nervously up at the box's interior.  
'I have rights!' Melkor yelled.  
'No-one said anything about _plushies_!'  
'How will we be turned back?'  
'What are these clothes supposed to be?'  
Lórien waved a hand over the box. 'Sleep,' he murmured. Manwë taped up the box and whistled to one of his eagles, who picked up the parcel and flew off into the blue._

* * *

_ Soon, the box would arrive in a post office in America, and from there it would make its way to the house of a fanfiction writer known as The Random Oliphaunt._


End file.
